#8.26.19

[missinvisibleandco]

"Waves Of Yellow"

.. on a sea of green. (no edit. 8.26.19)

[maldreathezora]

Wearing my favorite shoes to chemo this morning. Yes, they are chuck taylor sandals.

Random thought, I could never understand why sandals was not spelt sandles.

[edo-vivendum]

I expressed frustration in the fact that I'm still struggling and unable to hold myself consistently accountable despite all the time and energy I've put into recovery, and S said that change doesn't happen overnight. He asked me if I'd be mad at myself if I had broken legs and someone had to drive me around a lot. I asked S how he is so patient with me. He told me it was because I was worth the wait, that he believed in me and something else nice idek. I'm just... I don't get it. After years of childhood abuse, its a hard reality to hold onto. I am wanted. Even through my flaws and struggles, he wants me in his life. Through knowing him, I've been to the ER four times, hospitalized once, in residential treatment twice, and in and out of IOP and php for over a year. All I see is struggle and hopelessness, maybe a touch of resilience. I've learned not to give up on myself, but I'm truly at a loss as to how he has been so so patient with me. Am I healing? I don't know. I truly don't know. I'm doing the best that I can, day after day, but I don't know if I'm healing or just learning how to exist without acting on urges to hurt myself. But see S cares more than just about how I physically harm myself, when he sees me stressed and crying or quiet and dissociative, he cares about that too. He doesn't want me to settle for functionally miserable, and he's well aware that this optimal Molly may be unreachably distant. But he has hope. He has hope for me, and it's not blind hope. It's one thing for a therapist who's known me a few weeks to have blind hope, or a friend that only sees me with my mask to say they believe in me. But S, he sees me day after day, staring down my chicken, hiding under my desk, storming off at little comments, crying randomly, jumping at small noises. He sees all of me. He sees me at my best and my worst, and lately it's been much more of my worse. He sees the effort I dedicate to recovery, and he also sees me struggle again and again with the same old things. It gets old. What do I need to do differently? What can I do to meet myself where I'm at and start right here? There's so far to go, but as much as I want to, I can't just jump to the finish line either.

Today was hard. Change is hard. S was really supportive this afternoon, and I am grateful I have him. Tomorrow classes start, and I don't know how I'm going to manage 5 days a week of IOP plus two upper level math classes, I'm going to see how tomorrow and Thursday go, and then I might drop a class. I don't know. I'm over-analyzing. But if there's one thing I don't do well, it's taking on more than I can manage.

[normal-i5-boring]

I would write you in jail just to call you a scumbag if I thought you were worth the 50 cents in postage

[newfoundmemory]

GLO

“...I remember someone once telling me that we are gods,  Because our hair grows towards the sun - That the sun beams make our skin glow like rainbow when it pours, So that means our bone marrow is made out of the wisdom of cosmos; Enough to heal ten thousand generations of sunseekers Hiding in the moonlight, dancing,   Waiting to be reawakened.”

M. H Jiménez

[purenumbers]

8/26/19

(8 * 2) - 6 = 1 + 9

Also:

(8 - 2) / 6 = 1^9

Also:

(8 / 2) + 6 = 1 + 9

[illuminatedpopcorn]

"Oh Elaina 🎶

Is a pain-a 🎶

In my butthole 🎶

I said no-no 🎶

She said yes-yes"